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“No fucking clue. Something about a woman they were looking for. Beat the shit out of Zombie, looking for her. Only reason they didn’t kill him was they wanted him to give me a message.”

“What was the message?” King asked, his eyes on Sypher.

“No one was safe until they found her.”

King and Sypher both dropped their heads, and immediately we all knew this had to do with Amber. But we still didn’t know why.

“Zombie give them anything?” Colt asked.

“Nothing to fucking give. He told the bitch all we had here were club whores.”

“She give you a name? Description? Anything to clue you into who she was looking for?”

“Why are you asking?”

Steele wasn’t stupid. You didn’t become the president of a 1% MC by being dumb as a bag of rocks. But then again, with the shit you had to deal with being a president of any MC, maybe stupidity was a requirement.

I held a hand over my mouth, trying to hide the grin that spread across my face as I thought about what King would do to me if I ever called him stupid.

Though he was fucking stupid when it came to Grace.

“She give you anything or not?” King asked, letting his exasperation show. Sometimes it was the only way to get through to Steele. He hated fucking drama and did everything he could to avoid it.

Hence the reason Freeway was sent up here.

“No description, just a woman named Bethany.”

I sat up in my chair; the smile gone from my face and all traces of amusement fled my body. This had to be about Amber. She had confessed to me one night that her name wasn’t really Amber. I thought nothing of it.

I was pretty sure Tiffany and Crystal were the only two who used their real names. Crystal graduated with Lily, so we knew who she was. And Tiffany, well, it wasn’t a common name strippers chose.

Not like Brandy and Jade. And well, Amber.

None of the club girls who lived here were strippers that we knew of. But it wasn’t uncommon for a club girl to go by a fake name with the guys.

King dropped into his chair, while Sypher held his head in his hands. Cash glared at King. It had become a common look between the two. If King would just share his fucking secrets, maybe the animosity between the two of them would end.

They put on a good show in front of the club. But here in this room, all pretense was dropped outside.

“You know who the bitch is looking for?” Steele asked.

“Nah, brother. No Bethany here,” King lied.

“What do you know, King? The underworld has gone tits up. There’re rumors flying around. Sypher is missing.”

Sypher’s head popped up and he glared at Nav. King once again put his finger over his lips, telling him to keep his mouth shut.

“What do you mean, he’s missing?”

“I don’t fucking know. No one has talked to the kid in months.”

“Doesn’t he do surveillance for you?”

“Yea, that’s the fucked-up thing. When Omen contacted him, he fucking answered.”

King looked at Sypher, who shook his head.

“So, Omen talked to him?”